Cop Hater by Ed McBain Read Free Book Online Page B

deserve a kiss for that," he told her.
    She shook her head.                                                          
    "No kiss?"                                                                        
    She shook her head again.
    "Why not?"
    She opened and closed the fingers on her right hand.
    "You want to talk?" he asked.
    She nodded.
    "What about?"
    She left the arm of the chair suddenly. He watched her walking across the room, his eyes inadvertently following the swing of her small, rounded backside. She went to an end-table and picked up a newspaper. She carried it back to him and then pointed to the picture of Mike Reardon on page one, his brains spilling out onto the sidewalk.
    "Yeah," he said dully.
    There was sadness on her face now, an exaggerated sadness because Teddy could not give tongue to words, Teddy could neither hear words, and so her face was her speaking tool, and she spoke in exaggerated syllables, even to Carella, who understood the slightest nuance of expression hi her eyes or on her mouth. But the exaggeration did not lie, for there was genuineness to the grief she felt. She had never met Mike Reardon, but Carella had talked of him often, and she felt that she knew him well.
    She raised her eyebrows and spread her hands simultaneously, asking Carella "Who?" and Carella, understanding instantly, said, "We don't know yet. That's why I haven't been around. We've been working on it." He saw puzzlement in her eyes. "Am I going too fast for you?" he asked.
    She shook her head.
    "What then? What's the matter?"
    She threw herself into his arms and she was weeping suddenly and fiercely, and he said, "Hey, hey, come on, now," and then realized she could not read his lips because her head was buried in his shoulder. He lifted her chin.
    "You're getting my shirt wet," he said.
    She nodded, trying to hold back the tears.
    "What's the matter?"
    She lifted her hand slowly, and she touched his cheek gently, so gently that it felt like the passing of a mild breeze, and then her fingers touched his lips and lingered there, caressing them.
    "You're worried about me?"
    She nodded.
    "There's nothing to worry about."
    She tossed her hair at the first page of the newspaper again.
    "That was probably some crackpot," Carella said.
    She lifted her face, and her eyes met his fully, wide and brown, still moist from the tears.
    "I'll be careful," he said. "Do you love me?"
    She nodded, and then ducked her head.
    "What's the matter?"
    She shrugged and smiled, an embarrassed, shy smile.
    "You missed me?"
    She nodded again.
    "I missed you, too."
    She lifted her head again, and there was something else in her eyes this time, a challenge to him to read her eyes correctly this time, because she had truly missed him but he had not uncovered the subtlety of her meaning as yet. He studied her eyes, and then he knew what she was saying, and he said only, "Oh."
    She knew that he knew then, and she cocked one eyebrow saucily and slowly gave one exaggerated nod of her head, repeating his "oh," soundlessly rounding her lips.
    "You're just a fleshpot," he said jokingly.
    She nodded.
    "You only love me because I have a clean, strong, young body."
    She nodded.
    "Will you marry me?"
    She nodded.
    "I've only asked you about a dozen times so far."
    She shrugged and nodded, enjoying herself immensely.
    "When?"
    She pointed at him.
    "All right, I'll set the date. I'm getting my vacation in August. I'll marry you then, okay?"
    She sat perfectly still, staring at him.
    "I mean it."
    She seemed ready to cry again. He took her in his arms and said, "I mean it, Teddy. Teddy, darling, I mean it. Don't be silly about this, Teddy, because I honestly, truly mean it. I love you, and I want to marry you, and I've wanted to marry you for a long, long time now, and if I have to keep asking you, I'll go nuts. I love you just the way you are,